Monthly Archives: October 2013

You know how people rant and rave at people to go out to the polls and vote, preferably for the candidate they want? And they say, “If you don’t vote, you don’t get to complain!”?

Well… I guess I’m at the point where I vote just so I can complain.

I remember being in college when the Legal Lawyer and I were friends. He voted in the general Presidential election for an Uber-Conservative third-party type. Being young and highly selective in the issues I chose to stand for, and knowing the guy was not very popular anyway, I asked him if he heard the flushing noise when he pressed the “Cast Vote” button. I thought I was freaking hilarious at the time. (I considered this candidate anti-brown people, and as a brown person I have no love for the guy ever.)

But since that time, I started paying increasing attention to the political atmosphere in America. I won’t bore you with my political philosophy, but sufficed to say that it’s really hard to find a candidate who really matches up with the aforementioned philosophy. That and every year the system seems to have more glaringly obvious flaws. It’s no wonder the slogan has become “Vote or don’t Complain!!”, since that’s all anyone can do anymore.

I don’t really have to say it… you all know what it means when suddenly everything is pink. And I do mean everything: from teddy bears to football cleats and from candles to hammers. I think I can safely say that we are quite aware of Breast Cancer.

A horrible thing, cancer. Pretty much regardless of the type. My grandfather died of lung cancer, and my aunt battled breast cancer and is (fortunately) doing well. So I apologize if I seem cold. (Actually, I’m freezing… soccer practice again) But I really can’t help but be annoyed by the pink explosion that comes every October. I was never a huge fan of pink, and until Buttercup came there wasn’t much call for that sort of thing. And then there was the “boobie” issue. Touch them, feel them, stare because you care.
Oh.
For.
The.
Love.
Of.
Mike.

No one who has stared at my chest has been concerned with my wellness. Shut up. Unless you have no problem saying it to your mom, don’t say it.
That being said, I am totally okay with folks raising money for Breast Cancer Research. I sell PartyLite, and tonight is their Lite up the Nite fundraiser for the American Cancer Society. (Thankfully it has nothing to do with the Komen people. I really wouldn’t be able to support that. I won’t go into it here.) It’s not about boobs and cotton candy pink blech. It’s just about candles and the ACS. I like that.

Oh, and you guys at the NFL? Get yellow flags for the refs, for crying out loud. It’s getting confusing. It can have a pink edge, maybe, but like the boys at ESPN say, Come On, Man!

I guess it’s about time I commented on this whole government shutdown thing…

Well, I’m not sure what to say. I don’t consider myself a Republican or a Democrat, so I don’t really side with either group. But it’s not about sides. When it comes to a nation operating, we’re all on the same side. Like it or not, people are needed to make our country do what it has to do. The argument about healthcare at this point is just a red herring, and as we all know, that is the stuff of Communism.

Is the concept of national healthcare faulty? Sure. But the idea that the government needs to help those who cannot help themselves is a bell that cannot be unrung at this point. It’s in the government’s best interests to keep society running. Trouble is when folks who can do for themselves don’t, and the people who do well feel punished for their own success.

What bothers me is that people are caught in the crossfire. The people who were just plugging along with one government agency or other, regardless of what political party they have been aligned with in the past. A job is a job, and is a damn sight better than what so many other people have. No one takes a job like theirs to milk the taxpayers. It’s not their fault the federal government is the company that created the job they wanted. So it’s frustrating to see people be so flippant about how those people aren’t working.

So here’s to finding a way out of this mess. I kinda hope there’s a solution that no one likes. Then I’ll be convinced that it might be fair.

I’m freaking hilarious: that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. My style is being honed here, because I have infinite material (of mine and my husband’s making) and it’s just fun. Now that 25 people officially follow, and a few others just stop by to read, I want to hereby promise that my writing style isn’t about to change.

But now, I’ve written for an audience– like, on purpose and stuff. I have an article that is going to be published in an online magazine. It was a voluntary venture, but it could lead to more if the opportunities arise. And I was also allowed to advertise my blog in the article, so here’s hoping for an uptick in page views. (When will you be able to see it, you ask? Oh, don’t worry– I’ll tell ya. I’ll probably post the link here when the issue goes live.)

I was given a draft of my article to see online… and my reaction was very much like what I posted about before: “Is that what I sound like?” I think I need to practice my formal writing style a little more. I had always focused more on how students write and not so much on what I have to say. But this blog, and now this gorgeous magazine, give me the chance to focus on me, something moms don’t do nearly enough.

So thank you, Beverly and all the folks at Regina magazine. What a great experience.

One year ago yesterday, I started having contractions. Right on time, if you ask me. The doctor said the due date was the 4th, but I was sure I wasn’t going to have to wait that long. So when labor started, I was ready.
But when I checked into the hospital, the doctor disagreed. He started pumping me with saline, and he was almost right: the contractions slowed down. And then they picked right back up…. boy howdy, did they ever!
I was kind of on the fence about the epidural. I’d had one for my first delivery, and it was awful. I felt everything, and it was a general disappointment. But it had been four years since I’d had a baby, and I just didn’t want to face it without help. Thankfully, Mrs. Legal Lawyer had told me how her epidural had nearly been messed up, so I knew how to make sure it was done right. And oh, it was glorious. I was even able to take a nap. Did I mention that I was in labor nearly all night? And that the hubs and my mom stuck around for the whole thing?
When it was time to push, the cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck, but it was a non-issue. Buttercup was born at 4:31 am. (None of my kids were born on a 5-minute mark…) She was amazing. And she has been amazing every day since.
Even more amazing was how great I felt; it was almost as though nothing had happened to me. You don’t have to take my word for it: my bestie came to visit that afternoon and said as much. Confidence booster, if ever I heard one.
So happy birthday, princess face. You made me more fully the mom I was meant to be. And I love you always.